What We Leave Behind
by SiddaCullen
Summary: The world is left in shambles after a bloody war with no winner. The survivors are left to pick up the pieces of what's left of their lives. What will a former Death Eater do when he sees a mysterious, broken woman on the verge of death in a deserted alley? Can she be his salvation? Or is it too late for both of them?
1. Chapter 1

SUMMERY: The world is left in shambles from a bloody war with no winner. The survivors are left to pick up the pieces. What will a former Death Eater do when he sees a mysterious, broken woman on the verge of death in a deserted alley?

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_Chapter One_

It seemed even the sun couldn't bring itself to shine upon the dreary, desolate world anymore. A never-ending overhang of clouds blocked the sky from view, casting a gray shadow down upon what was left of the human race. Most people didn't even bother lifting their heads up anymore. Why bother when there was no longer anything left to live for? Some wondered why they still tried foraging for food when most nights they still went to bed hungry. A person could go bed with a broken nose just for fighting over a moldy piece of bread. And that was if they were lucky. Most times the streets were filled with the chorus of rumbling stomachs. It was better than the sobbing, anyway.

The young man currently walking alone down what was once a busy London street was one of the lucky ones. He still had a home to go to, though he spent most of his time fighting off the intruders who were bold enough to make a move. He'd learned to cook during the end of the war, having the foresight to realize that once it was over he would either have to use Muggle means or act like the other dregs of society and pilfer dumpsters, alleys, or rob people who were stupid enough to walk by. And he didn't have it in him. He might have been suffering, but he didn't have to lower himself just yet.

Draco Malfoy sighed as he took a moment to reflect on what had become of his life. He'd been a Prefect at Hogwarts during his fifth and sixth year. Head Boy his seventh. The moment he'd turned seventeen he'd eagerly joined the Death Eaters, making his mother and father immeasurably proud of him. A year later he'd married Daphne Greengrass, a fellow Slytherin girl who'd been as eager about the start of her adult life as he had. But what did he have to show for it, seven years later?

An empty shack of a house and a world on the brink of extinction.

No one would have guessed the outcome of the War to end all Wars. The Dark Lord had been at the height of his power. Dumbledore was gone, the Resistance was dwindling, and they'd been close to moving in on Potter and Weasley. The location was known. It was only a matter of time before they were drawn out and stopped once and for all.

But no one, not even the most skilled prophets in the Wizarding World, could have predicted what would happen next.

The asteroid had appeared out of nowhere. Like someone had _Accio'd _it from the depths of space and brought it down in the middle of Russia just because they had nothing better to do. By the time anyone, wizard or muggle, found out about it, it was too late. Most of Europe and Asia had been completely wiped out. Australia was lost completely, and the west coast of America had broken apart from the rest of the continent. It might've sunk to the bottom of the ocean like the muggle ship Titanic, for all Draco knew. Or it could still be floating out there in the middle of the nowhere like it's own little continent. Draco didn't really care. All he knew was that the asteroid had ended the war on it's own terms, wiping out most of civilization and leaving what was left to fend for themselves in a world much more terrifying than one with the Dark Lord still living in it.

Lord Voldemort might be gone, but so was Potter and Weasley. Not that Draco could know for sure because there were no means of communication, but he supposed it didn't really matter one way or the other. What was there left to fight for? A world with no sun? A colony of people who behaved more like feral animals than humans? Wizards blended in with muggles in their fight to survive. They didn't care about Harry Potter any more than they did about the Minister of Magic. It was matter of life or death. Kill or be killed. That was what surviving that asteroid came down to. Nothing more.

And even through all of that, Draco still came out of his house to witness the carnage first hand. Shops and restaurants were now nothing more than shambles of buildings but he still came out to look at them. He supposed it was to reassure himself that there _had _been life before the asteroid. It hadn't merely been a dream created by his own broken mind as a means of escaping his harsh reality.

This particular street, he vaguely recalled, was where the Leaky Cauldron had once stood. His trained eye sought the building out automatically, but he needn't have bothered. The dilapidated building was just as destroyed and abandoned as the other muggle ones around it. Tom and the others were long gone, either dead or alive, Draco could never be sure. Either way, he'd never be able to buy another drink there.

He couldn't bring himself to go into Diagon Alley. Even after seven years, he still couldn't find the courage to look upon the remains of Fourish and Blotts, Madam Malkins, Ollivanders, and Gringotts Bank. Most of them had gone out of business during the War, but it was one thing to see the buildings out of business, and another to see them destroyed entirely.

Draco sighed and forced his legs to keep walking. Being out in the open like this was dangerous for more reasons than one. Desperate people would try to mug him, yes, but he could fight them off. Despite his skinny, muscle-less frame, he was still bigger than most, and his years as a trained Death Eater weren't for nothing. But no matter how hard he tried, he was always unable to venture outside without seeing a dead body.

They were almost as common as the trash littering the dirty streets. Most were murder victims, killed over something as small as a crumb, but some were the unfortunate victims of starvation, dehydration, or exposure. The temperature never rose more than fifty degrees anymore, and that was on a good day.

Draco almost blanched as he came upon a body near the entrance of a dark alley. The man didn't look any older than Draco. His ribs were clearly visible through his flesh since someone had stolen the shirt off his back. His skin was pale. His face was as white as a sheet. His cheeks were sunken in and his open, unseeing eyes were dark with deep circles underneath him. He looked more skeleton than man. Draco wished he could still use his wand to conjure up a blanket or something to cover him up, but magic no longer worked in this apocalyptic world. All he could do was walk by it and hope the same thing wouldn't eventually happen to him.

The former Death Eater was about to keep walking when a small movement further down the alley caught his eye. His head turned in the direction he'd seen the move, but all he saw were shadows. He swallowed, hating how nervous he felt. It was probably just a gang of feral kids, waiting for their next victim. Most of them liked to hide in alleys like this one, as out of sight as they could manage. Draco knew he should keep walking, but something stopped him.

The alley was still for a moment longer, but then he caught the movement again. This time he was able to see a little better, and he noticed the rough outline of a small silhouette towards the back of the alley. A tiny cough followed, and it was the sound of that cough that prevented him from moving.

Though it was impossible to know for sure, the cough sounded female. Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a woman alone in a deserted alley. In his experience that only led to trouble. He'd had plenty of unwilling girls during his time as Death Eater, most of them mudblood slaves, but ever since the asteroid it became common to see a group of boys or men corner an unsuspecting woman or girl. Draco never participated, but his ears hurt with the desperate cries of those girls begging him to help as he walked by. It was better not to get involved. It increased his life expectancy. He knew was no gentleman for thinking that way, and there were days he hated himself for it, but it was just the way it was.

He knew that he should just keep walking now, but there was something about that cough. So sick. So pathetic. So utterly hopeless. Like whoever had made that cough had given up on life and was now just waiting for the inevitable. Against his better judgment, Draco turned and ventured into the alley.

He tried keeping his steps as quiet as possible, but the figure at the back of the alley let out a frightened whimper. He knew he'd been spotted.

"Hey," Draco called out, as gently as he could. "I'm not going to hurt you."

No answer.

Draco took another cautious step forward. The figure moved as he did, emerging from the large box she hid behind, to crawl back as far as she could. Draco watched as her back hit the wall hard, and she let out another whimper. Her long, tangled dark hair hid her face from view, but Draco could tell she was young. Not too much older than he was. Her body, though frail and emaciated, still held the curves and breasts as that of a woman, and Draco felt relief that he wasn't scaring some poor, frightened child.

"Please," Draco tried again. "I won't hurt you. I just want to help you."

_Why? _He thought to himself. _Why do you want to help her? You have yourself to think about. _

And while it was true, he just couldn't walk away from this girl who looked like she could, quite literally, die of fright.

The girl didn't move. She raised her legs so that her knees rested just below her chin, and she buried her face in them, wrapping her frail arms around her legs, curling herself up into a protective ball. As she began to cry, Draco noticed that she also started shivering, and he knew it was from more than the cold.

"Um...miss?" God, he hated how hard she was making this. "Do you need some help? I don't have any food, but maybe I can find some..." He trailed off. He was rambling like an idiot. This girl didn't need that. She needed someone to help her, since it was clear she either couldn't or wouldn't do it for herself.

"Okay...just...don't take this the wrong way or anything, but I'm going to take you home with me. Just hold on." Silently berating himself for what he was about to do, he stepped up to the trembling girl, who no longer made a move to back away from him, and bent down to scoop her up in his arms.

She immediately tensed when his hands touched her. She whimpered again but didn't struggle. Draco didn't know whether to take that as a good or bad thing. As soon as she realized that she was in his arms she seemed to simply resign herself to her fate.

Draco didn't bother saying anything else to her as he turned back around to leave the alley. The place was filthy and crawling with rats. He had no idea how long this girl had been hiding out in here. He just hoped it hadn't been long.

As he neared the entrance to the alley he pressed himself against the cold wall of the building on his right and peered around the corner to make sure there was no one else around. He'd be able to fight off an attacker, but not with a person in his arms.

The coast seemed to be clear, so Draco took a deep breath and hurried out of the alley and began running in the direction he'd come from. The girl made no more sounds. It was impossible to tell if she was awake or asleep. Her arms hung limply and she made no effort to steady herself when he fumbled with her more than once. Draco grunted with her weight, which seemed to increase with each step he took. She was light and didn't weigh nearly as much as she should, but she was still a fully grown human and it was difficult to run, take in his surroundings, and carry her to safety at the same time.

Draco couldn't help but thank whatever god was up there when he came upon his small house. They hadn't been disturbed at all, which was quite uncommon. Usually Draco had to kick at least one bum away from him. Maybe the girl in his arms scared them off. Whatever the reason, he wasn't about to question it.

He grunted again as he fought climb up the three steps leading to his porch. He swore under his breath when he realized that his key was inside the pocket of his ratty jeans. He would either have to shift the girl to one arm to get to them, or put her on the ground. It wasn't really a choice. He struggled with her since she made absolutely no move to help him, but finally managed to put her in a less than dignified position with her upper half over his shoulder. He kept his left arm on the backs of her upper legs to steady her as he rummaged through his pocket for his key. After a few minutes of more cursing, the door opened.

Draco quickly deposited the girl on his sofa in the small living room. He noticed immediately that she wasn't sleeping. Her eyes were wide open as they stared into his. He was taken aback by the sheer beauty of them. They were dark and wide, and eerily familiar. The sight of them sent a shiver of shock down his spine. He knew those eyes. Surely it couldn't be...

The girl seemed to have similar feelings toward him. The moment she got a good look at his face her entire body began trembling again in fear and her eyes, if possible, widened even further, and she began muttering the first coherent word he'd heard from her so far.

"No. No, no, no, nononono..." She struggled to sit up, and began scooting to the edge of the sofa, as far away from Draco as she could. Her rag of a shirt rode up as she did, exposing her stomach and torso. Draco's own eyes widened in both horror and recognition as he took in the all too familiar mark on the lower right of her abdomen.

A small replica of the Dark Mark had been branded into her otherwise flawless flesh, with the world _mudblood _underneath. The mark of a slave, back when the Dark Lord was still in power.

Draco knew he was being rude by staring, but it had been so long since he'd seen that mark that he'd almost forgotten about it. He hadn't seen a mudblood since the asteroid came down. Not that many people were willing to show their bare stomachs to him as he passed. It had been so long since he'd seen any sign of other witches and wizards that he'd convinced himself that he was the only one left. Seeing evidence of a witch, mudblood as she was, shook him. But there was something there besides that. He still couldn't let go of the familiar feeling this girl brought him. He'd seen her somewhere before. But where..?

And then it hit him. Like a ton of bricks to the back of the head. He took a step back from the suddenness of it, and for a moment he thought he might faint. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. And yet, now that he took a deeper look at her, he knew instantly that it was true. This wasn't just any Mudblood that he'd taken into his home.

This cowering girl, this Mudblood slave, was Hermione Granger.


	2. Chapter Two

**Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and added my new little story to their alerts/favorites. Even though reviews motivate me to keep the story moving, this is something I feel compelled to write. It will get dark, and there might be parts that are difficult to read. I'll let you know when those are. Characters might be a little OOC at the moment. They live in a dark world where rules have basically gone out the window. **

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! **

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Chapter Two

"Fuck!" Draco swore as he fled the room. He couldn't deal with this. He had to get out of here. He needed to get as far away from this woman as he possibly could.

Why did this have to happen? Why did he have to pick today, of all days, to go against his better judgment and help someone? He certainly didn't need this. It had been hard enough keeping himself alive in this hellhole for the past seven years. How was he supposed to keep her...this _Mudblood..._alive as well?

He didn't have to. The logical part of his brain screamed at him to get rid of her. She wasn't just any girl on the brink of death. This was Hermione Granger. Hermione _fucking _Granger. Gryffindor Princess. Best friend to Harry Potter. Head Girl to his Head Boy. Royal pain in his ass during his years at Hogwarts. Why did it have to be her? The fates must be playing some horrible joke on him.

He stumbled into his kitchen and slammed his fist against the wall. He immediately regretted it as white hot pain shot through his hand. "Fuck!" he yelled again. He pounded the wall with his open palm. The pain was intense, but it also felt good. It cleared his mind. He hit the wall again. And again, and again, and again.

When his hand felt like it might fall off from the pain he threw himself into a chair and ran his uninjured hand through his greasy platinum blond hair. Logic told him to throw her out. Everything in him wanted to get rid of her. It would be all too easy. She was hardly strong enough to stand on her own. He doubted she'd last long out there. She'd be gone in less than a day. No longer a burden to him or anyone else.

But those wide brown eyes gave him pause. Never, in all the years he'd known her, had she looked at him like that. Like he could break her with a simple flick of his wrist. It unnerved him more than he was willing to admit.

He didn't know how long he sat at his table. Minutes or hours. It didn't matter. He felt like he was watching from outside his body as he stood up and rummaged through his cupboards for something to eat. He definitely didn't have much. Just a few pieces of bread, some stale crackers, and a tin of raisins that he didn't remember he had. He grabbed it all and found himself heading back into the living room before he could stop himself.

He paused when he looked at the sofa. Hermione wasn't there.

He looked around, but it was like she'd disappeared into thin air. She was so small now, it wouldn't have surprised him if she had. Like the earth itself was as hungry as everyone else and decided she would make a tasty snack. Draco shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts and set the food on the small coffee table as he began searching the room for her.

Luckily he didn't have to look long. He found her wedged between his empty bookshelf and the wall, curled up in a tight ball. She looked up as she heard him approach and let out another frightened whimper that nearly broke his heart in half. Whoever this girl was, it couldn't be Hermione Granger. The Hermione Granger he knew would be fighting for her freedom. She would've called him some disgusting name and possibly even threatened him. She certainly wouldn't just sit there, staring at him in an expression of fright that people used to reserve for the Dark Lord himself. What the hell had happened to her?

Biting back his irritation, he sat down so that he was eye level with her and said, hesitantly, "Hey...can you come out?"

It wasn't eloquent or brilliant, but it was all he could think to say. He watched as she slowly shook her head, burying it once more in her knees. She looked like she wanted to curl up and disappear.

"Please?" he went on. "I...I brought you some food. It's not much, but you look like you're hungry."

Hermione made no sign that she heard or understood him. She continued to sit there like she was trying to blend in with the scenery.

Draco sighed. "Well, how about a shower? You look like you could use one."

That much was true. Even from where he sat, several feet away, he could smell the mixture of dirty alley and body odor emanating from her. He swore he could see the fumes wafting in his direction. Her flimsy shirt, covered in holes and dirt, looked like it hadn't left her skin in years and her pants-what was left of them-didn't look much better. They had more holes in them than swiss cheese. The soles of her shoes were nearly ripped away entirely, and her feet were clearly visible from where Draco sat. He had no idea where she got the clothes since they were nothing like the tattered rags the Mudblood slaves had worn in the days of the Dark Lord. Part of him was impressed that she, at some point, had at least attempted to take care of herself.

"If you don't want food or a shower, than can you at least tell me what you do want? How am I supposed to help you if you don't give me some kind of clue?" He tried keeping the annoyance out of his voice but it was hard when he felt like he was talking to a wall. A very scared, broken wall.

When Hermione said nothing Draco sighed and stood up. Fuck this. He wasn't going to keep talking to her if she wasn't going to talk back. What was he wasting his time for, then? He could just let her stay there. He doubted she'd move. But something stopped him. He didn't know what it was. The Death Eater inside him certainly wouldn't have bothered to help her, but he wasn't a Death Eater anymore. If this last idea didn't work than he would give up and go to bed. Let her rot behind that bookshelf. He didn't care. Really.

He grabbed the bread and crackers from the table and then walked back to her. Perhaps food could coax her out if words wouldn't. She was probably starving. The rest of the world certainly was.

He returned to his spot facing the small space between the bookshelf and wall and stared at the girl huddled deep inside. She'd raised her head once Draco left but had quickly hidden it again when he returned. Draco pretended not to notice and tore the piece of bread in half. He reached over to her and pushed the bread as far underneath her nose as was possible in her huddled form.

She jumped and scooted back instinctively, but not before grabbing the slice of bread out of his hand and stuffing it into her mouth.

In any other life Draco would've laughed at the intensity with which she swallowed the bread. He might've made some quip about learning to chew before she swallowed, but he understood her desperation. And he certainly couldn't laugh about it, Mudblood or not.

"Like that?" he asked, his voice raised and light, like he was talking to a puppy or a small child instead of a fully grown woman. "You can have some more. Just come out of there."

Hermione finally raised her head as if against her better judgment. Her brown eyes had narrowed in suspicion as she gazed at Draco, her old school enemy. Despite the situation he almost felt like celebrating. This was more like the Hermione he used to know.

He held out the other half of the bread in her direction imploringly. He'd intended to lure her out with it but before he got the chance she reached out and snatched the bread from his hands once more. She shoved it in her mouth as though she thought he would snatch it back and swallowed before he could think of something to say.

"You, ah...you might want to take it easy. You don't want to get sick."

She merely stared at him. Draco knew she was waiting for him to give her more. He had to wonder if she understood him, or if she was just choosing to ignore him. He didn't want to think about the ramifications of the first. He couldn't forget the mark branded into her abdomen. He had no idea how long she'd been a slave, but even the shortest amount of time wouldn't have boded well for her. And somehow he knew, just by the way she acted, that it had been a significant amount of time.

Pushing those thoughts away to think about later, he held out the package of stale crackers. This time he didn't hold them out to her, but kept them close by so that she would have no choice but to move closer to him in order to reach them. His goal was to get her close enough for him to grab her. The first thing he was going to do was make her shower, even if he had to wash her himself.

Hermione stared at him as she slowly unfolded herself. He held her gaze, wondering what she was searching for. She obviously recognized him as he had her, and obviously didn't trust him. He couldn't exactly blame her. He hadn't kept his status as Death Eater a secret back then. Even though he hadn't known she'd become a slave, she'd obviously known about him. Only Death Eaters kept Mudblood slaves. Her master must've mentioned him at some point.

He shook the bag of crackers gently enough to focus her attention on them and keep them from breaking at the same time. It seemed to do the trick because she looked from him to the crackers. She hardly even blinked. She stared at the crackers like she was willing them to go from his hands to hers. For all Draco knew she was. He had no way of knowing if she knew there was no more magic in this world, but if she didn't she would soon. No amount of wishing would make those crackers magically go to her.

"If you want these, you're going to have to come get them." Draco rattled the bag again.

When she didn't move Draco reached into the bag and pulled out a cracker. The person he used to be would've cringed at even the thought of putting that stale, tasteless thing in his mouth but now he hardly blinked as he bit into it, intentionally drawing it out so the crunch reverberated between them. He closed his eyes in exaggerated bliss.

"Yum," he said once he swallowed. He opened his eyes and looked at her. Her brow was furrowed and she stared at him with an expression he could only call jealousy. "Delicious. You sure you don't want any? They're yours if you come out of there."

Her legs twitched at his word. She bit her bottom lip so hard that Draco cringed, knowing she'd probably draw blood. When she finally let go she opened her mouth as if she was about to say something. Draco wished she would. Not that he was eager to hear that aggravating voice he used to wish would shut up back at Hogwarts all those years ago. But he wanted a sign that she was coming out of the shell she'd put up around herself. Anything to make him recognize the old Hermione Granger. Anything to remind him of the world that once was.

But she closed her mouth almost as quickly as she'd opened it and made a small, hesitant move in his direction. He pulled out another cracker, making sure to keep it close while holding it out to her. If she grabbed it out of his hands again and crawled back to where she was, they'd be back to square one and Draco didn't know how else to get her out of there. She might be able to fit in that impossibly small space but he couldn't, and he didn't want to leave her there. As much as he disliked her, he couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least attempt to make her comfortable.

"If my father could see me now," Draco mumbled to himself as Hermione slowly crawled in his direction, eyes glued to the cracker in his hands.

She stopped when she was still a good few feet away from him. Draco expected her to reach out again and grab the cracker from him. But she didn't. Instead she cautiously held out her right hand, palm up, toward him. Draco didn't have to ask to know what she was doing. She wanted him to give her the cracker.

"All right. Here you go." He dropped the cracker into her hand and she threw it in her mouth as she'd done with the bread. When she was finished she looked at him again, silently pleading for more.

Draco smiled despite himself. The situation wasn't funny and hardly called for any sort of smile or show of happiness, but he felt like he was succeeding in the tiniest way. If he could get her to listen to him then there was hope.

He pulled out another cracker and made sure to look right at her when he said, "If you want another one you're going to have to come out. I'm not going to let you stay in there all night."

She frowned in the first sign of understanding she'd shown since Draco found her. At first he feared she would scoot back into her little nest of safety but instead she leaned over and began crawling toward him.

He scooted back and made room for her. Part of him hated seeing her crawl like that but another, more primeval part of him enjoyed it. He immediately hated himself for it, but it wasn't like he could change his feelings. The Hermione he knew never would have degraded herself like that. It was a sure sign that the times had changed.

She crawled past him to the sofa. Instead of sitting on it she settled herself on the floor and then turned to stare at him expectantly. Draco didn't have to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking. _I did what you said. Now give me that cracker. _

Instead of giving her the cracker he threw the rest of the bag to her. Hermione's eyes widened in shock but she quickly dug in. Draco decided against telling her to slow down. Instead he stood and walked to the coffee table where he'd left the tin of raisins. He picked it up and gave them to her. She flinched at the sight of his outstretched arm but relaxed when she noticed the raisins. She grabbed them like a rabid animal and immediately began digging into them.

Draco didn't have it in him to care that she was eating the rest of his food. He'd intended to have this very meal for dinner, but one look at the broken girl on his floor told him she needed it more than he did. He could go one night without food. She couldn't.

He stood there watching her as she devoured the meal of crackers and raisins. When she finished she looked up at him as if to say, _What next? _

He had the decency to look guilty as he said, "That's all I have. Sorry. I'll go out tomorrow and look for more."

Her face fell and she looked at the floor, setting the empty bag of crackers and empty tin of raisins by her feet. He was about to pick her up to bring her down the hall to the bathroom but she seemed to have different ideas. She laid down on the floor like she was used to spending her nights there, and used her arm for a pillow as she curled into herself.

"No..." Draco began, but stopped when he watched her close her eyes, looking about as peaceful as he'd seen her so far. He'd be an asshole if he interrupted that. Everyone deserved at least a little moment of peace in this new, messed up world they lived in. Why would this girl, this Mudblood, be any different?

Draco sighed and forced himself to look away as he went down the hall into his bedroom. He grabbed the only blanket in the entire house, the one he usually used for sleep, and went back into the living room.

Hermione was right where he'd left her. Her steady breathing told him she was sleeping. How he envied her that. His own eyes burned from exhaustion but he knew he wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Not with the intruders who tried to force themselves inside his house every night. Not with the helpless girl he'd brought upon himself to protect.

Draco draped the blanket around Hermione's small body. She wouldn't be able to hold in as much body heat as he could since she had absolutely no muscle-mass or fat to speak of. He made sure the material covered as much of her body as possible before he stepped back to get a good look at her. The flimsy cloth wasn't much but it was better than nothing.

As he stepped over her to lay down on the couch he couldn't help but wonder what happened to her. How had she managed to survive so long? There weren't many survivors out there and they tended to be grown men who knew how to fight for what they needed to survive. How had such a small, broken, helpless Mudblood slave managed to take care of herself for the past seven years? Was her former master still out there somewhere? The thought didn't bring him much comfort because he knew any Death Eater still out there, still holding onto their slaves, weren't doing it out of the goodness of their hearts.

He didn't let himself finish those thoughts. Instead he laid down on the worn sofa and peered out the window into the dark, desolate world beyond. Would it ever change? Draco didn't know. All he knew was that he had a duty now to protect himself, and his new charge, as much as he was able. He would think about the consequences later. For now he just let himself have a small, temporary moment of peace.


	3. Chapter Three

**Happy reading! Also, please review. Love it, hate it, please let me know. **

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Chapter Three

A loud bang shook Draco from sleep. He jolted up and peered around for the cause. Nothing seemed to be disturbed. He frowned when he realized he'd fallen asleep in his living room before the events of the previous day came back to him. Almost at once he looked down at the floor, sighing in relief when he saw Hermione, unmoved. Whatever had caused the bang, it hadn't been her.

Longing to return to sleep, Draco forced himself to his feet and crept to the front door. He tested the handle and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it still closed. If there were intruders outside, they hadn't managed to get in. He peered through the small peephole, but found nothing other than dreary landscape.

He walked back into the living room and sat back down on the sofa. His stomach rumbled loudly in hunger and he suddenly wished he hadn't given the rest of his food to the girl lying on the floor. He'd have to go rummaging later, and he absolutely did not want to.

The thought of going outside made a startling realization occur to him. How would he manage to go outside, scavenge for food, fight for it if necessary, and haul it back to his house with a broken girl hanging around? He didn't trust her or anyone else to leave her at the house, but having her come with him would only slow him down. Everything seemed to scare her at the moment. Fighting off other desperate people for nothing more than scraps would probably send her over the edge.

But what choice did he have? The options weren't good, but they were all he had. He vowed to think about it later, instead focusing on the present. He needed to figure out what had caused that bang.

If he didn't know better, he would've said that someone had just Apparated on his property. The sound was both familiar and unfamiliar, welcome and unwelcome all at once. Apparating was impossible now, but he didn't want to think about what kind of witch or wizard would be able to figure out a way, if such a way were possible. Whatever their intentions, they wouldn't be good.

His gaze traveled down to Hermione again before he realized it. The look of peace hadn't left her as she continued to sleep. He was grateful she didn't seem to be having a nightmare. Draco wouldn't know how to handle it if she did. She seemed to slowly be starting to trust him, but she still cowered at the sight of him. He doubted he would be of much comfort to her at the moment. Assuming he was even able to _be _comforting. He decided he didn't want to find out.

Her closed eyelids twitched in her sleep, and Draco found himself wondering what she was dreaming about. Life before the asteroid? Before the war? It seemed like an eternity ago, but Draco remembered it vividly. Perhaps that was because they were the best times of his life. Despite all of his complaining, he'd enjoyed his time at Hogwarts. He liked the classes, most of his Slytherin classmates, and the sense of freedom he had while roaming the corridors of the castle. He'd hated Potter and his gang of arrogant Gryffindors, but fighting with them and getting a rise out of them had been fun. It was all too easy to get them mad. Provoking Potter and Weasley was sometimes the highlight of his day.

He wondered if they were dead like the Dark Lord, or if they were still out there somewhere, scavenging like scraps like everyone else, struggling just to stay alive. He didn't think the odds were great that they'd survived, but finding the broken girl at his feet made him think. If _she _had been able to survive this long, surely her former friends had. He had no wish to run into them but the thought of more wizards out there comforted him to some degree. Made him feel less alone.

Another loud _BANG! _startled him from his thoughts and he was on his feet again. He took cover by the wall just by the window, his heart hammering in his chest. Someone was out there. Someone with a weapon, by the sound of it. That scared him more than he was willing to admit. Weapons were even more scarce than food. If someone owned a gun then there was no telling what they were willing to do. Breaking into his house would be simple. And if they wanted to kill him or kick him out, there was nothing he'd be able to do about it.

A soft whimper forced his attention from the window. He turned and saw Hermione sitting up near the window, a look of pure terror on her face. She must've been woken by the second bang. Draco wanted to shout for her to take cover but he was more worried about making a sound and alerting whoever was outside to their presence. He just hoped she stayed there and didn't make any more sound.

Draco held his breath as another bang, this one softer but closer, filtered into the air. He cursed under his breath. Why hadn't he thought to grab a knife from the kitchen? It was too late to get one now. The moment he left would be the moment the intruders chose to make their attack. How he wished he still had magic! His wand rested in the back pocket of his jeans, as it always did, but without any magic it was nothing more than a useless stick.

He pulled it out anyway, hating how dull and lifeless the thing was as it lay in his hands. It felt lighter somehow. Weightless. One twist of the hands and it would snap in half as easily as twig. He couldn't cast any spells out of it but maybe he could use it as a makeshift weapon. He'd taught himself how to fight muggle style. If he got close enough, maybe he could knock a few of the intruders out before he went down. It was better than standing around waiting for something to happen.

He moved away from the window and toward the front door. Whoever was out there was right outside. He could hear them. He put his hand on the doorknob and was about to unbolt the deadlock when a soft voice spoke to him from the living room.

"N-No."

Draco froze for a moment before he slowly turned his head in the direction the word came from. Hermione was kneeling beside the sofa, having moved a foot or so from the spot she'd slept in. She looked frantic as she peered up at him, her small hands on the ground before her. In a different life he might've been amused by her submissive stance but all it brought him now was grief. She reminded him so little of the girl he used to know. He might as well have been staring at a stranger.

Before he could say anything she spoke again, a little louder this time. "No. P-Please."

"Please what?" The question came out much harsher than Draco had intended. Hermione flinched and looked away.

He stifled a sigh and had to fight with himself not to roll his eyes. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand. What are you trying to say?"

But Hermione was quiet and refused to look at him. The moment she dared steal a peek at him and saw him still looking at her she quickly looked away again. She was so nervous that Draco could feel it rolling off her in waves.

"Look, I don't have time for this. There are strange people outside, and they're going to try to get in. I have to fight them off as best I can, and I can't do that if I have to waste my time trying to figure out what you're trying to say. So either spit it out or shut up."

Draco immediately regretted his words the moment he saw a tear leak out of her eye and trail down her cheek. The old Hermione would've thrown some hateful retort back at him instead of crying like the broken shell of a girl in front of him. He sighed, but before he could think up some apology to tell her, there was another _BANG! _

It sounded like a grenade had just gone off right outside the door. Draco and Hermione both jumped. Draco immediately moved to go through the kitchen, prepared to head them off from the back, but before he could get very far Hermione spoke up again.

"Please! Don't...Don't leave me!"

The utter desperation in her voice was what drove him to turn around and scoop her up in his arms. She made herself as small as possible as he carried her out of the living room, around the corner, and through the kitchen. He was about to leave through the backdoor when he remembered his earlier wish. He turned around and went to the counter where his knife holder rested. It wasn't _technically _his of course. It belonged to the previous owners of the house before the asteroid came down and turned the world upside down. But everything in the house became his as soon as he started living in it, so he felt no remorse as he made to grab the largest knife.

It was easier said and done, however, with the girl in his arms preventing him from grabbing anything.

"Can you grab that knife right there?" he asked, turning himself around so that Hermione was able to reach out for the knife.

Except that she didn't. The very sight of it seemed to frighten her more than anything else had so far and she turned her head away from it, squeezing her eyes shut.

Draco groaned. "Look, that knife is all we have to defend ourselves. If you don't take it we're both dead. Now hurry!"

The commanding tone in which he spoke seemed to do the trick. He was thankful he didn't have to repeat himself as Hermione reached out, grabbed the knife, and tucked it carefully in her lap. Draco felt her suck in a breath, as though the piece of metal would jump up and stab her of its own volition. In the old world maybe it would have. Draco didn't want to think about it.

He kicked the back door open with his foot so forcefully that it broke off its hinges and crashed into the lawn outside. Draco ran over it but his foot caught against the edge, forcing him to lose his balance. He and Hermione squealed as he fought to right himself while still holding on to her. He felt her tense, bracing herself for the impact of crashing to the ground, but Draco managed to keep himself upright. They wasted precious time, though, because footsteps behind them alerted him to the intruders' oncoming presence.

"Can you run?" Draco asked in her ear as he began running again.

She shook her head against his shoulder. He didn't know why he'd been expecting any other answer.

"Then stay here." He dropped her off by the large oak tree in front of them. She scrambled to take cover behind the large trunk, the knife falling to the ground in her haste to get away. Draco picked it up and hurried over to Hermione. "Whatever you do, do not move. No matter what happens!"

She whimpered and cowered away from him, more tears falling down her dirty cheeks. Draco frowned before he was waving the knife in his hands like some Muggle lunatic. He sighed but didn't have time for apologies or reassurances. He sped away from her just as four men the size of boulders came around the corner of his house. They slowed to a walk once they realized their prey was right in front of them. Draco saw two of them sneer jovially. He recognized that look. It was the same sneer he used to wear as he watched one of his victims realize they were cornered.

He hid the knife behind his back, fighting to stuff it in the back pocket that didn't already house his wand. All four men raised the guns in their hands as he started walking toward them.

"Lovely place you've got here," the biggest man in the group called to him. "It isn't everyday you come across a house that's still standing."

"You like it? I recently redecorated. I'd invite you in to see, but something tells me you might not want to leave," Draco countered, surprised at how calm he managed to keep his voice. His fingers twitched toward the knife but he forced himself to remain still.

"Well, it's a good thing we don't need your permission, isn't it?" the leader's false smile faltered. He gestured to two of his men and they began to check the perimeter.

"It's still my house last I checked. You're trespassing on _my _property."

"What you goin' ta do?" The man beside the leader spoke up, glaring at Draco with enough venom to make him look like he might've been a former Death Eater if Draco didn't know better. "Call the police?"

Draco laughed. "Of course not. I'll just do this." He pulled the knife out from his pocket and threw it at the man with the bad accent. It landed right directly in his heart.

The man's eyes widened in shock, and he fell to the ground before anyone had the chance to register what just happened.

The leader stared at his fallen man blankly before walking over to him and pulling the knife out of his chest. Draco made sure to keep his face calm even though he was beginning to feel nervous. All he really had was the element of surprise. Four against one weren't exactly great odds. He was surprised that he hadn't heard Hermione scream at the sight of him flinging a knife into a man's chest. He could only hope she had enough sense to keep her eyes, ears, and mouth shut.

"Did you really think that was the best move?" The leader asked, pointing both the knife and the gun at him. "Handing over your only weapon was incredibly stupid. Makes me think you don't really want to fight for _your _house." He took a giant step forward in Draco's direction, waving the two weapons in his hands around emphatically.

All Draco could do was hope the man wasn't a good fighter. If he could wrestle at least one of the weapons away from him then he at least stood a chance. Being out in the open with nothing to defend himself only made him feel like a sitting duck. Like the useless Muggle he now was.

"Boss," called out a male voice from behind Draco, making him and the leader of the intruders pause. "Look what we found out in the clearing."

Draco knew before turning around what he would see. The pathetic whimpering gave her away. He almost didn't want to look but he knew he had no choice.

Hermione was held between the two men the leader had signaled to walk away, each of them holding one of her hands in their death grips.


	4. Chapter Four

**This chapter answers some of the questions you've been asking. It was a little difficult to write at times, but I'm pretty happy about it. :) As always, let me know what you think, and happy reading! Please don't forget to review. **

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Chapter Four

Draco could only watch as Hermione tried in vain to wrench herself out of the men's grips. It was the most fight he'd seen from her so far and the pride he felt upon seeing it both confused and relieved him. His old self would hardly care whether these men killed her or not. He wouldn't have batted an eye if her dead body crumpled to his feet. But seeing her put up a struggle, no matter how pointless it was, gave him some hope that she could get better. Perhaps she wouldn't remain this lifeless shell forever.

"Well now, it looks like you've got a decision to make," the leader said as he stepped up to Draco. He crossed his arms, swinging the gun loosely at his side. "The house or the girl. It's your choice." Draco was about to open his mouth to say something but the leader continued, interrupting him. "If you give us the house _and _the girl we'll give you our weapons in return. I am a fair man, after all."

Draco felt his gaze fall to Hermione's as though she were a magnet attracting him against his will. He saw the desperation in them, the primal _need _to get away. Her years as a slave hadn't been for nothing. She knew what these men wanted.

But...Draco had to consider. What was she to him? A burden and nothing more. She'd eaten all his food-never mind that he'd given it to her-and caused him nothing more than a headache. He couldn't afford to take care of a girl like her. Someone so incapable of taking care of themselves. This was the answer to his problem. His way out. He could hand over a burden and get himself some weapons in return. He had to admit that it was a fair trade.

"No," Hermione whispered. Draco looked at her again. Tears were falling down her eyes freely now, as though a dam had been broken inside her. She looked so forlorn; as though she'd already resigned herself to her fate. Her body went limp in the men's arms.

How could he do it? How could he just handher over to these men as though she was nothing more than currency? He hadn't sunk that low, had he?

Before he could stop it, a memory surfaced from deep within the dark edges of his memory.

_"Look man, all I have is this Mudblood bitch. Take her and consider our debt paid. That's fair, isn't it?" Goyle asked as he stood before Zabini in his manor. _

_Draco watched from Zabini's side. They hadn't been close at Hogwarts, but he was definitely better company than Goyle had ever been. He and Crabbe were nothing more than mindless crones who did his bidding without blinking twice. He rolled his eyes at the pathetic display in front of him. _

_Zabini was quiet at first, his gaze moving from Goyle's chubby form to the trembling girl kneeling at his feet. She wasn't naked but she might as well have been since her shirt covered little more than her breasts and her skirt barely covered her small ass. The collar around her neck was so tight that it made her skin turn pink and bulge out a little. Goyle had the leash attached to it wrapped around his hands several times, as though he expected the girl to escape. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying but her sobs were silent as she stared at the floor around her. _

_Draco didn't recognize her from school even though they were around the same age. Her thick black hair hung around her face in greasy strands and most of her exposed body was covered in bruises. Draco looked on in disgust, though he was careful to keep his face neutral. _

_"How is her temperament? Is she obedient, or does she have some fight in her?" Zabini asked, never taking his eyes off the Mudblood slave. She flinched under his scrutinizing gaze but was unable to move due to the tight collar around her neck. _

_"She's very good. You only have to tell her to do something once and she does it. She's been broken, believe me. She's still a little feisty in bed, though, aren't you?" Goyle leaned down and grabbed the girl's face, forcing her to tilt her head to look up at him. _

_She cried out in pain but nodded. "Yes, Master." _

_"There. Satisfied?" Goyle asked as he released her. Draco knew that if she could've, she'd scoot as far away from her master as possible. _

_"I don't know. I like my slaves to have a little bit of fight in them. Makes it interesting. Don't you agree, Draco?" _

_Draco stiffened. "I don't own slaves, Blaise. I wouldn't know." He couldn't say that the very idea of keeping slaves disgusted him. His opinion wasn't the popular one. He was the only Death Eater who didn't own a Mudblood slave. Even his father had one, and it prevented him from visiting his parents more often. _

_Zabini was silent, seeming to think more about it before he finally said, "You have a deal, Goyle. I'll take her. Consider your debt paid." _

_"Oh thank you!" Goyle exclaimed in relief. He eagerly pushed the leash into Zabini's hands. "She's yours now. I promise you won't regret your decision." _

Draco shook his head, forcing himself to get rid of the memory. It repulsed him more now than it did back then. He didn't know what had become of that girl. She was probably dead now, either by Zabini's hand or the asteroid. It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting as far away from these intruders as possible.

"Ten seconds. Do we have a deal or not?" The leader asked. He was losing his patience. Draco could see the longing on his face as he stole glances at Hermione.

The two men holding her seemed to think he would agree to the terms, because they both started touching the girl they were holding captive. One was stroking her tear-stained cheek while the other one was stroking her thigh. His hand started rising up toward the hem of her jeans, and Draco snapped.

"Enough. No deal. You can take the house and keep your guns. Me and the girl will be leaving."

The leader sighed. "If you insist." He turned to his partners and commanded, "Let her go."

"Ah, Boss, where's the fun in that? She won't be any trouble at all. Will you, darlin'?"

"You heard him. He said let her go," Draco snapped, glaring at the man with his fingers stroking Hermione's torso. If he lifted her shirt up even a fraction of an inch the brand on her stomach would be exposed. He didn't know if these men were wizards or Muggles, but he wasn't willing to risk it. If they were wizards then they knew what that branding meant, and they'd know what Hermione used to be. And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that they wouldn't be so willing to let her go.

"Who the hell do you think you are, talking to us like that?" the man caressing Hermione snapped. "We're the ones in control here. If I want to take a few more seconds to enjoy her, I will."

Draco's gaze flew upward to Hermione. She hadn't said a word so far, and he knew deep down that she wouldn't. Her time as a slave had taught her that it was best for her not to fight back. Just let them take what they wanted and it would eventually stop. But Draco wished, rather foolishly perhaps, that she would stand up for herself. Surely she realized that the times were different? The world had changed. Technically speaking she wasn't a slave anymore. She was free to do as she pleased.

But she only stood there, so very unlike the Hermione Granger he used to know, and let the men touch her and stroke her hair.

The leader didn't seem to be inclined to stop them. Draco knew from the hungry look on his face that he wanted to join right in. He was a man, after all. He had _needs. _Draco cleared his throat, and that seemed to do the trick.

"Theo. Carl. I said let her go."

The men groaned but didn't disobey again. They stepped back and pushed Hermione roughly in Draco's direction. She stumbled, caught unaware, and Draco rushed forward to catch her before she fell to the ground.

"You have ten seconds to get off _my _property. If you're still here I'll let my boys take the girl, and you'll watch. I don't offer second chances. Understand?" the leader barked to the two people kneeling on the ground.

Draco barely heard him. He was too busy reassuring the trembling girl in his arms. She wasn't making any sound, and that worried him. He answered as the words slowly sank in, and he nodded distractedly. "Yeah. Whatever."

Draco pulled Hermione to her feet as gently as possible. "Can you walk?" he mumbled in her ear.

"I...I think so." It was more answer than he'd expected but he didn't have time to celebrate. The leader and his remaining men glared at both of them in matching expressions that would've made any Death Eater uncomfortable. He tried not to pull Hermione with him. She did her best to walk but either fear or pain made her slow.

"I need you to walk faster. I don't know if these men will back out on their word, but I'd rather not wait around to find out." Draco flinched at the hardness in his tone. He hadn't meant to talk down to her like that. Apparently old habits _did _die hard.

He expected a smart comeback. Maybe even a punch in the nose. What he did not expect was for her to stop completely in her tracks. He turned around to glare at her but froze when he saw the expression on her face. It was nothing but terror.

"I'm s-sorry! I didn't m-mean it!"

"Whoa, it's okay. I didn't mean to snap at you like that." He did his best to reassure her but he knew just from looking into her eyes as they were unable to look at him, that it would take more than a hasty reassurance.

"I'll try harder! I'll d-do whatever you want. Just p-p-please! Don't m-make me stay here!"

Draco frowned. Luckily they'd made it around the corner before Hermione had her meltdown. The men were out of sight for now but all it would take would be for one of them to hear them, and it would all be over.

"I wasn't going to," he replied softly. "I just..." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I believe those men. If we don't get away from here, they'll do things I'd rather not think about."

Hermione nodded hastily, as though her life depended on it. "Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"It's all right." Draco fought to keep the impatience out of his voice. He knew she was scared and hurting, but what would it take to convince her of the danger they were in? They couldn't afford to linger.

He held out his hand for her to take. It took seconds that felt like lifetimes before she finally accepted. Her hand was surprisingly soft and cold to the touch. She gasped when his fingers curled around hers. She began to tremble again.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Draco made sure she met his gaze before he said anything else. "It'll probably take more time to convince you of that because I used to be a..." he paused since he wasn't sure what her reaction to the words 'Death Eater' would be, but he didn't feel like risking it. "But I promise that I'll do all I can to protect you. You have my word."

Hermione didn't respond. She gazed at Draco suspiciously. Draco sighed but gently guided her along. He didn't expect much more of a response than that.

As they walked along the deserted streets, Draco couldn't help but think of the last time he'd wandered around with nowhere to go. He'd managed to hold on to that house for the last two years. He'd thought, foolishly as it turned out, that he would spend the rest of his life in that house. It got lonely at times, but the relative safety it provided more than made up for it.

Still, it felt strange to walk around with someone again. And not just any someone. A girl. A woman to be precise. The last woman he'd ever talked to, let alone trusted, had been his wife. Daphne.

The worst part about her disappearance was the uncertainty behind it. He had no idea whether she was alive or dead. He'd simply woken up one morning and she was gone. He didn't know what was worse: if she'd woken up, walked away, and never looked lack; or if she'd been taken by a desperate group of men and killed after she was no longer of value to him. He didn't want to believe she left him, but the thought of the love of his life being murdered didn't sit well with him either.

It wasn't until now, with this broken girl in his charge, that he realized how lonely he'd been for the past three years. The year after Daphne's disappearance had been the worst of his life. Squatting the post-apocalyptic streets of London was a nerve wracking experience he wasn't eager to repeat. He'd slept with one eye open the entire time since his wife was no longer there to watch his back. The empty house he'd lived in for the next to years had been a God send. It gave him the confidence to search the city for food and fight for it if necessary.

He didn't know if having Hermione around would benefit him or not, but at least he'd have company. She wouldn't be much help finding food, but she could watch his back while he slept, and he would do the same for her.

Finding a suitable alley to take shelter in for the night turned out to be harder than Draco remembered. Every one they'd come across so far had at least one person already. He wasn't willing to share and he knew the same could be true for anyone else who crossed their path.

Hermione followed along without a word. She seemed content to let him do the hard work. He didn't bother asking her to help because he knew she wouldn't be much of one. The events back at the house had sent her even deeper into herself than she'd already been in before those men arrived. He'd give her one night before he started demanding that she pull he weight.

Being back out on the streets reminded Draco of his earlier thoughts. How had Hermione survived this long? No one had been around when he found her. Could she have spent all this time taking care of herself alone? He found that scenario unlikely but he didn't know how else to explain it. Here she was, this sorry excuse of a girl, holding on seven years after the end of the world. Draco couldn't help but be impressed.

"Here," Draco said in relief as they came upon a seemingly empty alley. He couldn't be certain, but it appeared to be unoccupied. As long as it got them through the night, it would be home enough. "This way."

He led her down a narrow alley sandwiched between two abandoned buildings. It was impossible to know what they'd housed before the asteroid fell down. It could've been Diagon Alley for all Draco knew. There wasn't much in the alley itself apart from old newspapers and empty boxes. The small metal dumpster was picked clean. It was clear enough there was no food here. But Draco hardly cared. He wasn't about to wander away from the only relatively safe place they'd come across so far to feed their empty bellies. He'd go one more night without food. Hermione at least had some of the food from earlier.

He couldn't believe it was still the night after he'd found her. It felt like days had passed. The men had arrived at his house in the middle of the night, though it had been impossible to know that at the time. He'd gotten to be a good judge of time from looking at the sky. He knew from the dark shade of black that painted the sky that they still had a few hours to go before sunrise. He could only pray that they'd live to see it.

Hermione stood near the back wall of the alley, eyeing it uncertainly. There wasn't much they could use in the way of shelter and protection. Draco didn't blame her for not immediately settling down. Aside from the dumpster there was nothing they could use to stay out of the open.

"Do you want me to help you get in the dumpster?" he asked. Her gaze shot up to meet his. She raised her eyebrows in contempt.

"I know it's disgusting, but it's all we have. We'll find another place to take cover tomorrow night, but in the meantime, we both need sleep. So it's either you or me," Draco could explain with as much patience as he could manage. He'd probably react the same way she had if someone told him to sleep in a dumpster. But what the hell did she expect? A five star hotel?

"Sure," she mumbled, and slowly walked over to it. At least it didn't smell too bad. There was nothing in there to stink it up. But it was still a dumpster, and it had been home to plenty of nasty things in its time.

Hermione grabbed the top of the dumpster and tried to pull herself up, but she had no muscle. She could barely lift herself a couple inches off the ground. Draco touched her waist as gently as possible, but she still flinched away.

"It's the only way. You can't pull yourself up and I'm not going to throw you in," Draco snapped.

His words seemed to do the trick. She let him touch her this time, and with his help she was inside the dumpster. A tear fell down her cheek and she brushed it away as she curled inside the dumpster as comfortably as she would allow herself.

"Sweet dreams," he muttered sarcastically.

He got no response.

His eyes burned from exhaustion as he settled himself against the dumpster. He wanted desperately to fall into the bliss that unconsciousness provided, but he knew he couldn't. If they both slept they'd be easy prey for the scavengers who'd pass by. So he pried his eyes open and refused to blink more than necessary. He'd find a way to get his house back. Even if it was the last thing he did.


End file.
